


Recovery

by Lisafer



Category: Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Community: 31_days, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 8,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A  response to 31_days/August 2010; Raoul has to find a way to end his dependency on alcohol, and it's a journey of discovery that takes him years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raoul thinks he needs a cure, but really finds another escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _01 - healed by the wind and sun_

Alan – no Alanna – went to the desert after the Duke’s death, and missed out on the palace falling apart. The queen was miserable, the king was angry, and Jon… well, Jon wasn’t someone anyone wanted to spend time with these days. 

So Raoul left, too. He was heading south, riding hard and drinking hard, and hoping that maybe – just maybe – when he came back life would be magically better. No more of his friends would reveal lifelong lies or secrets, or start kissing each other in public. He hoped that maybe solace could be found somewhere other than the Dancing Dove, where George was morose and almost as moody as Jonathan.

He didn’t leave for months, getting tied down with border patrols and weekends he couldn’t remember. It was only after Jon returned from the desert, bitterness and fury tempering the wisdom he seemed to have picked up somehow, that Raoul decided to go.

And he went south, too, looking for Alanna’s miracle cure. The desert held mysteries that he wanted to learn, and when he joined up with the Sandrunners he thought maybe they did hold the secrets that made it all better.

And after his joining ceremony, he was offered a drink. 

It wasn’t a cure, after all. The sand and the wind whipped up around him as he took his drink, and he realized that an old familiar friend was all he needed to cope with the misery of life.


	2. Boasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol is his security blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _02 – over the world and under the world_

“A toast!” Gary declared, filling Raoul’s goblet with the dry wine he preferred. “To the new knight commander of the King’s Own!”

Raoul sneered. “It’s less impressive than acting Prime Minister.”

“But my position could be temporary.”

“All positions are temporary.” Raoul didn’t know if he liked the idea of being the commander of the most elite military force in the realm. He wasn’t even twenty-four yet and he’d had less combat experience than other knights. What about Imrah of Legann, who led so many during the Tusaine War?

He drank slowly, savoring the taste. He forgot, sometimes, to taste the things he drank. It was a means to an end, he knew. The wine gave him the confidence to stand upright, in this world where everything was off-kilter. Tonight he needed more confidence than ever: other nobles were raising their eyebrows, wondering what this practically green Goldenlake fellow had that they didn’t. Lips were tight and jaws were set as harsh eyes gazed upon him across the dining table. It was not his choice; he could only trust that Jon’s decision was right.

He downed the rest of his drink and smiled at Gary. “But we’ll both have these roles for a long time.” The confidence the wine gave him surged, offering so much more than this little bit of bravado. He turned his gazed to Lady Cythera and winked roguishly.


	3. Subsiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything changed after the Coronation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _03 - walk in empty places_

Raoul limped, slowly and painfully, through the rubble of the palace. What would it have looked like in history, he wondered, if Duke Roger had succeeded? Just another Conté squabble, or shifts and changes that would affect the entire world? Would they remember, in a hundred years, that the ground shook with a magical war? Or would they believe it was all exaggeration?

Sitting down, he propped his aching leg on a large block of stone. A wall, he realized. He was resting his leg on a chunk of the palace wall. 

His whole body seemed to be shaking in disbelief. Everything he knew nearly ended the day before, and he didn’t know what to expect of tomorrow. 

There was a silver flask in his breast pocket, and it was nearly full of whiskey. It was filled the previous night, when Cythera of Elden helped him back to his room after his healing. She told him that he’d need it, since the palace healers were nearly drained. 

When he took another sip, he remembered why he drinks. It didn’t make the world a happier place. It didn’t make his pain go away. It didn’t change the fact that people had died and lives had been forever altered. 

But it made everything a little bit more bearable. It dulled every ache in his body, every ache in his heart.


	4. Departing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything’s changing, and Alanna’s leaving makes it feel worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _04 - one day here and the next day gone_

He wondered if he would always associate a degree of melancholy with Alanna heading to the desert. First it was the death of Duke Roger, then it was… the death of Duke Roger. She looked tiny, mounted on Moonlight and pulling a pack pony in tow toward the palace gates. Jonathan and the princess were there, too, along with Gary and Sacherell, saying goodbye. No one wanted to issue the words, but their eyes said it, and their pulses beat it.

Raoul didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone. _It’s a part of growing up,_ his father once told him. He wasn’t particularly fond of his father’s approach to life, the more he thought about it.

Confetti fell from the top of the palace wall, landing all over Alanna. Douglass cried down at the group: “We should be celebrating our King’s Champion and her newest adventure!” 

Alanna forced a grin and wiped the colorful paper off her shoulders. “You’re just celebrating my absence, Douglass.” 

Raoul shuddered at their continued banter, wondering if life would ever be the same again. He suspected that someday people would honor the coronation anniversary with something other than grimaces, that Gary would look at him without the worry over his father’s heart weighing at the corners of his mouth. And maybe… maybe Jon would marry this Saren princess and create a stable monarchy. 

The farewell was over too soon, and everyone dispersed quietly once Alanna was removed from their sight. “To the Dove, then?” Raoul asked Gary, nodding his head in the direction of the lower city. 

Gary shook his head. “I’ve work to do.”

So Raoul made the trek himself, and silently toasted his first mug of ale to his departed friend, and to the ease of the lives they once knew.


	5. Regretting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needed an excuse to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _05 - destiny calls and I go_

He needed to get away. Away from the palace, away from the king – away from everything that was making him tetchy and angry. Perhaps he could justify going to the desert; he had liked it there, living among a group of people who didn’t ask more than you could give, people who didn’t expect so much of you.

And there were other things to run away from, like the feel of Cythera’s palms flat against his chest as she pushed him away after he’d finally worked the up the nerve to kiss her. 

“I didn’t ask for this, Raoul,” she had insisted. “I wasn’t playing with your heart – I’ve been in love with Gary since… since as long as I could remember.”

“But you danced with me,” he’d slurred. “And you were so nice.”

“I dance with anyone who asks.” Her cornflower eyes had been filled with pity. And maybe, he thought later, a bit of revulsion. “Just _go_.”

And he had left her side. He’d moped over to the other side of the room to where Sacherell and Douglass lounged, and lamented that Cythera was being cruel. And they had laughed and offered him more wine, telling him that women were too complicated for a simple man like him.

In the unforgiving light of the morning, the light that reminded him of those dark spots in his memory – things he couldn’t piece together or make sense of – he realized that going away was necessary. And recruiting for the Own seemed a good enough reason as any to leave the palace. 

There was work to be done, and things to try to forget.


	6. Refusing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to come to the conclusion on your own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _06 – that we should voyage far_

“I think, perhaps, you should talk to Myles,” Alanna said to him one evening, as they hovered in the shadows of the Bloody Hawk fire. The men of the Own were trading stories with the Bazhir, laughing at each man’s bravado.

“Why Myles?” Raoul moved to take a drink from his flask, but Alanna grabbed him by the wrist.

“Because he used to have a problem with drinking, too.”

“I’m not like Myles,” he said with a scowl, shaking her off of him. “And I don’t have any problems.”

Alanna’s gaze was serious and unwavering. “We all have problems, Raoul. They just manifest themselves differently from person to person.”

“What’s your manifestation?”

She was quiet for several heart-beats, staring at her scarred hands. “I don’t like to let people close. George calls it a fear of intimacy.”

“Is that why he’s not here, with you?” 

“You’d have to ask him why he’s not here,” she replied with a shrug. “Lay off the drinking for just one week, and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I’ve stopped before,” he said darkly. A tone of warning tinged his hard voice.

“I’ve spent the last ten years trying to perfect myself,” Alanna said slowly, “to overcome fears. Fears of Roger, of my magic, of trusting people and my love for them. It was a difficult journey, but it’s brought me to where I am now.”

Raoul closed his eyes, his temper flaring. “Are you done lecturing me?”

She nodded. “I can’t help you if you don’t want it. But if you want it, I’m here for you.”


	7. Dismissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He takes one last moment to look at everything that’s lost before moving onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _07 - no longer burdened by what’s left behind_

Their group was fractured, and had been for a long time. First there was Francis – sweet, shy Francis who laughed quietly at their jokes and blushed when he was called on. And then there was Alex… Even before he became a complete mystery to all of them, he slipped out of their grasps. Sarcasm was replaced by bitterness and friendship was replaced by conspiracy. Raoul wasn’t sure he could have traced the strange path if he had tried.

Even before the destruction was complete, though, there was Jon and Alanna. They had been inseparable – due to a romance, everyone learned later. But their friendship had been something to boast about: the future king has a kind heart! See how he’s taken to the runt of the litter! But the desert – that maddening expanse of sand and wind that offered so many promises but gave no solutions – took the best of them, too. Jon returned caustic and guarded. Alanna came back as someone completely different.

Only Gary was the same – reliable, humorous Gary with his twinkling brown eyes and his ridiculous moustache. 

When Raoul received the news of the engagement, his throat burned and his eyes stung. It wasn’t that he was jealous, even if she was the only woman he’d ever fancied himself in love with. And he was happy for them – how could he not be happy for people who found something nice in this tumultuous, unforgiving world?

So Raoul let go of the pain; he let it slide down his throat along with the bitter flavor of ale.


	8. Avoiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he’s more bothered by Cythera and Gary than he wants to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _08 - escape all that waiting and staying_

Everyone had settled down, hadn’t they? Couples everywhere, on each other’s arms, whispering in each other’s ears. Jonathan and Thayet, Alanna and George, even Myles and Eleni… and now Gary and Cythera. They looked the essence of joy, the quintessential bride and groom.

Not for him, Raoul decided. This life was nothing that he wanted – he didn’t need a wife to nag or criticize, to be the sole object of his love and desire.

“You look angry.” Buri sat beside him, looking out of place in a gown. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s clothing. How old was she now? Sixteen?

“I’m not.” He downed the last of his champagne. “Just thinking.”

“Must hurt you to think, then, given your scowl.” It was the pot calling the kettle black.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, waving a palace servant to his side. 

“I don’t drink.”

“Why in Mithros’s name not?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to feel off-balance. What if I need to fight?”

Yes. Because warriors were going to pour into the ballroom now, intent on killing the queen on this evening of celebration. Raoul swallowed the sarcastic comment; he wasn’t in the mood to hear her reply. “It’s easier to celebrate,” he said, taking another glass.

She shrugged. “It’s not for me, this marriage nonsense.”

“No need to feel trapped and stuck, right?”

“My thoughts exactly,” she replied. She probably wasn’t used to having someone see things her way in this particular argument. “So if you’re happy not to be stuck, why are you drinking to escape?”


	9. Interfering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drink changes the man, and relationships suffer for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _09 - the open road, the bitter song, the heavy load_

He was heading out with a company of the Own when they were overcome by the Queen’s Riders – a newly formed, rag-tag team of children – cutting through the forest. Buri led the group, grinning savagely at him. “Good thing you travel with your swords out, Goldenlake, or we would’ve had you!”

His desire to point out that one hundred was greater than fifteen was tempered by his wish to avoid her sarcastic come-back. It didn’t matter if she was losing the argument – she delivered parting blows as if she had won.

“Where are you heading?” she asked, pulling up beside him on her mean pony.

“Away.”

“When will you be back?” 

“When we’re needed.” He was probably too abrupt; he had little patience with the young K’mir. Everything was a challenge, an accusation, a question – always demanding. 

Her eyes flashed angrily. “And if I’m asking on behalf of the queen?” 

“Tell her the company will be back when we’re needed. We have mages. They have mages. They can contact us if we’re needed.”

She cursed – impressively, he would’ve probably thought, if he’d been in a better mood – and scowled. “I’ll be sure to tell her that you need a lesson in manners.” She steered her mount off of the road and called for the Riders to follow her.

“You could’ve been gentler with her, sir,” Flyndan observed. “She’s just a girl.”

Raoul sighed heavily and spurred his horse forward.


	10. Laughing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in the darkest times, there are sunnier moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _10 - no time for spreadin’ roots_

“You know, sir,” a young Bazhir man – their newest recruit out of the Sandrunners – said to Raoul late one afternoon as they left the farmlands surrounding Port Caynn, “we could always try staying in a city for a few days. Make sure everything’s clear.”

“The hired killers were detained and handed over to the Provost’s Guard. Our work here is done, so we move on to where we’re needed next, Qasim.”

The young man sighed, unhappily. Maybe he had liked the comforts of the farmstead. More likely, Raoul suspected, he liked the company of the tiny brunette who had shown him where to draw the water. “If you don’t like the work, there’s an easy solution.”

“I don’t want to leave the Own. Ever.”

“Why is that?”

Qasim shrugged. “It’s my home away from home.”

“If you’d stayed with your tribe, what would you be doing right now?”

“Hunting. Marrying. Defending the village from hill men.”

“So, you’d be doing the same things that you do with the Own, aside from the marriage and babies.”

Qasim grinned. “Exactly. A man needs to have time to live before he resigns himself to slow, torturous death.”

Raoul laughed. “So you’re not so devastated about leaving the farmer’s pretty daughter behind?”

“No… he was wishing for more time to spend with the farmer’s wife!” another member of the Own called out, laughing.

Joking and smiling with his men, it was easy for Raoul to acknowledge that they were all correct: whether pursuing women or avoiding them, this life was better for the men who didn’t want to settle down and get married.


	11. Realizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The redundancy of the patterns of his life have shown him something needs to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _11 - all cities were the same_

There was something comforting and familiar about a tavern. Each tavern was pretty much the same as the next. Upon walking in, no matter the town, no matter the lord overseer, Raoul would notice the same thing: barmaids were usually pretty and flirtatious, the bartender was usually a gruff man who had seen better days, and there was always one man who was boastful and needing to be put in his place. And there was a quiet man, drinking alone or with companions, who would drink more and more as the evening progressed, and would often wind up engaging the boastful, arrogant man in a challenge of sorts – sometimes it was a tavern game. Sometimes it was a knife-fight in the back alley.

That quiet man was always him. 

It dawned on him that life was spinning out of control. Well, not life exactly. Life had been out of control since he was young and his friends were already breaking rules in order to save the world. But his lot in life, his ability to manage himself, was changing. He had once looked to drinking as the balance – the way to bring everything back into focus, to give him the fortitude he needed to carry on, to give him the confidence to approach women or bark out commands no one wanted to hear but knew were needed.

He sat in a corner in the run-down tavern, nursing a tankard of ale he didn’t really want to drink. It wasn’t a question of wanting, anymore. It was a habit, a way of life. 

And no matter where he went, what he did, this life followed him. Whether with the Bazhir or in Corus, there was a drink in his hand, offering… something. Companionship? No, he had that in his men. Confidence? Didn’t he have that in his abilities? Strength? No. He was stronger than most he knew. Physically, at least. 

He needed moral strength, he realized. He needed help.


	12. Lamenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t remember the night before, but Buri does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _12 - No yesterdays on the road_

He woke with a monster of a headache and a bruised cheek. And no memory of what happened the night before.

“That was a doozy of an evening,” Qasim told him, bleary-eyed. “I’ve never seen either of you like that.” He didn’t elaborate any further, likely assuming that the night’s festivities were fresh in Raoul’s mind.

But there was nothing there. He remembered the town’s celebration – being rid of the highwaymen who had plagued them for months was something worthy of bonfires and opening old casks of wine. And there was dancing… so much dancing. Raoul had promised himself just one drink. He could vaguely recall deciding a second glass of wine couldn’t hurt, but not much after that.

He suspected the Riders had something to do with it, given their glares at him as they folded up their tents and washed their cooking utensils in the stream. 

Buri glowered the most. Not really a surprise there, he mused. 

“I wouldn’t talk to her if I were you,” Flyndon advised, following Raoul’s gaze. “She’s cooled off a lot since last night, but you should limit your conversation to ‘good morning’ and ‘I’m sorry’, if you say anything at all.”

“Flyn,” Raoul began hesitantly. “What happened last night? I-I don’t remember anything.”

Flyndon shook his head. “It’s the wine, isn’t it? You’ve always been heavy-handed with it. Has it taken control of you? I’ve seen it happen often enough – I should’ve known.” He was the kind of man who took on every responsibility as his own personal burden. There were times Raoul was grateful for it, but this wasn’t one of them.

“I’m working on it,” he said hoarsely. “What did I do to her?”

“Nothing short of insulting her in every manner possible, from her age to her stature. I think she would’ve forgiven the line about only surviving in war-torn Sarain by the will of sheer stubbornness, had you not started by lambasting the Riders.”

“She hit me, didn’t she?” 

“It was an impressive punch. The Riders were calling her the Giant Killer all evening, seeing as how she laid you flat.” He grimaced. “Forgive me for saying so, sir, but you deserved worse.”


	13. Asking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step is admitting you have a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _13 - life is short and the world is wide_

He’d quit several times. Once it was because of Gary’s frown. Another time it was due to the guilt he felt every time he saw Alanna’s worried eyes. George cornered him once, asking if this was how he wanted to live his life. Most embarrassing of all (though at the time it simply made him angry) was when Jon – no, King Jonathan – threatened to remove him from the Own.

The Own… that was Raoul’s world, and yet it wasn’t enough to pull him away from his tankard of ale, his bottle of wine or his flask of whiskey. He loved the comforting burn of brandy in the back of his throat, or the smoothness of wine over his tongue. He liked the assurance, the joy and the ease of life with a drink in hand. Women and their matchmaking mothers weren’t as daunting or annoying.

But everything had a breaking point, and Raoul had met his. His argument with Buri – more accurately, his argument combined with the inability to recall the events of the evening – reminded him that this was a serious problem. Losing the Own could crush him. Blacking out and losing hours of his memory, hours of his life, could kill him.

So he gave his flask away; a Midwinter present for Gary, meant as a reminder of better times when they snuck sips together during the holidays of their squire years. Gary’s mouth quivered when he took it, and his always-concerned eyes shined brighter than usual with his whispered “thank you”. 

“I have a problem,” Raoul said slowly, “and I want you to help me overcome it. I want you all to help me overcome it.”

Admitting that he was powerless and needed help was harder than he thought it would be, but he knew that the world had no limits, if he wasn’t alone.


	14. Praying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs the help of a higher power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _14 - two ways of getting home_

It was more than simply _liking_ alcohol, Raoul realized very soon after his decision to quit for good. He craved it. He felt weak and out of sorts the longer he went, and it made him angry and miserable to not have a glass of wine – and know that just _one_ gods-cursed drink would make him feel better was the worst form of torture and tantalization he could think of.

At Midwinter, when the king toasted the realm and everyone raised their glasses of wine, he could take no more. He raised his glass of juice and swallowed dutifully, then excused himself. A dozen pairs of eyes watched him stumble out of the room, and one person followed him.

“Your drunk again, aren’t you?” Buri asked accusingly. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man.”

“You have no idea,” Raoul growled, walking as quickly away from her as he could. He felt feverish, although he knew there was no reason that not drinking for two weeks would make his flesh burn as it did now. “Leave me alone, kid.”

She started to say something, but halted before he could guess what she was going to growl. “Fine.” Turning on her heel, she stomped back toward the banquet.

He continued on his way, closing his eyes. He might need help, but it wasn’t from her. He had his friends and they weren’t enough – how could a pestering little girl make things better? 

His feet seemed to know where he was going better than he did. He entered the chapel and knelt before the altar and sun disk dedicated to Mithros. The Sun God knew much about the darkest hours before dawn, and of the longest night of the year that was necessary before he could rejuvenate the world and bring spring. Only a power as strong as Mithros could help him through his own dark times.

Raoul bowed his head and prayed, not stopping until sunlight crept in through the eastern windows.


	15. Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solidarity comes in the strangest of places, sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _15 - trusting strangers_

He threw himself into work. The one relief he had, when things got tougher than he thought he could bear, was his ability to thrash a practice dummy or solidly thwack a quintain to his satisfaction. He fought hard each afternoon he was at the palace, working around the pages and squires who trained even in the foulest of weather. The new training master seemed to have a “no mercy” approach to the snow and sleet, and Raoul had to nod to him, even while feeling sorry for the boys who looked as miserable as he felt.

“You work out like a man who’s running away from something,” Lord Wyldon said to him one afternoon, after the boys ran in for their lunch. His voice was as frosty as the weather.

Raoul nodded and grunted, throwing another punch at the practice dummy. 

“I’ve heard rumors, Sir Raoul.”

“About me?” Raoul grimaced. “I’ve heard plenty about you, so it’s only fair.”

Wyldon steered him by the shoulders toward him. His hands were covered with pads used for absorbing punches. Raoul took the hint and began to direct his blows at the other man. 

“You’re sloppy when you’re angry. Has anyone ever told you that?”

It was like hearing the little K’mir speak with a rational voice. He found that he liked it even less, coming from Wyldon. “What are you getting at?” he asked gruffly.

“You have a lot to be frustrated about,” Wyldon said in what passed for him as a casual tone. “I’ve been there. I know.”

Raoul stopped abruptly, looking up into the older man’s dark eyes. “You _what_?”

“I drank too much, at one point. It took nearly getting myself killed and losing half my men in Tusaine for me to realize that something needed to be changed.” He grimaced. “You’re only as sick as your secrets, Raoul. If you need someone to talk to, you know where I can be found.”


	16. Transitioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s come a long way, but there’s so much further to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _16 - can you hear the distance_

It didn’t take long for Raoul to realize that his problem was more than just what he chose to drink or do each evening. It bled into every aspect of his life – who his companions were, what the patterns of his life looked like. He stood in the crossroads every moment of his life, making yet another choice that would determine whether he was Raoul the man, or Raoul the drunk.

It wasn’t easy, either. He thought that each day would bring a simpler decision, but he wasn’t ready to crave what he’d lost, even when he knew it wasn’t good. The few friends he chose to share his troubles with – Gary, Alanna, Flyndon – were supportive. But they didn’t live in his head, taunting him. They didn’t tell him that he would be fine if he had just one little drink with his men, to celebrate a victory. Flyndon was the most helpful at those times, silencing the little voice in his head with one stern frown. 

Friends weren’t always around, though. And late at night, Raoul felt the call of temptation. When he saw Qasim sitting by the fire with a flask of whiskey, he wanted nothing more than to sit next to him and ask if he would share. 

It wasn’t guilt that propelled him forward; it wasn’t the thought of everything he owed to those he’d harmed. It was hope. He hoped that life would offer something more than living moment to moment in a haze of wine and beer.


	17. Confiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things run in your blood, and you have to do your best to fight it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _17 - curse of the gypsy blood_

“It’s not an easy thing to overcome,” Alanna reassured him. She scraped her belt knife along a whetstone rhythmically. “Myles and Baird tell me that these things can run in your family. If there are members in your family who drink a lot, it could’ve hurt you – made you more predisposed to have a problem with drinking.”

“I like how you always say ‘have a problem’ rather than just calling me a drunk,” Raoul said with a grin.

“How about a former drunk?”

“I’ll take it.” He handed her his own knife, and she began to sharpen it as well. “You’re the squire I always wanted.”

“Sacherell wasn’t enough?” 

“I had three – they all swapped places at one point or another. You’re the only steadfast one.”

She grinned up at him. “I think you’re one of the few people in the world who’d call me that.”

“Yes, well, you’re also one of the few who stood by me when I was a drunken fool.” He shifted uncomfortably from his lounging position. “Myles and Baird are right. The whole Goldenlake clan drinks heavily. We used to say that it’s why we grow so large – the Goldenlake ale is known beyond the borders of Tortall, you know. My fathers and uncles all have these booming personalities, and I can’t think of a one of them without seeing a tankard in one hand. My mother, bless her heart, was refined and drank wine to excess.” He shook his head. 

“Stop the trends,” Alanna told him, her voice low. “It’s the only thing you can do.”

“That and not have babies, so I don’t damn them to the same mistakes I’ve made.”

“Or have babies and teach them from your mistakes,” she replied, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.


	18. Compromising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing harder than giving up alcohol is making amends. And a little bit is better than none at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _18 - Quarter moon better than none_

Buri greeted him with a scowl – of course – even though she was coming out of the queen’s bedchamber with a swaddled infant in her arms. “Would you like to meet Prince Liam?”

“After Ironarm?”

“Do you know any other Liams that Thayet would name her child for?”

Raoul frowned. Her bitterness had once driven him to rage and even violence – though never taken out on her. Nowadays it just made him wish for a chance to start over with the tiny girl. “Can I hold him?”

“No.” She turned her back to him and cooed at the princeling.

“Buri, that’s not—”

“Fair? No, it’s not.” She flashed a grin over her shoulder. There were far too many teeth for it to be a friendly smile. “But I don’t believe in fairness when it comes to you, Goldenlake.”

“Look, can you just accept my apologies for everything I’ve said and done to you?”

“Starting with the journey from Udayapur, when you stole my bread and called me names?”

He couldn’t recall any such thing. It had been almost four years ago. “Maybe we can just… go riding, or something.”

“So you can mock my pony? I hardly think so.”

He spun her around to face him, noticing how huge his hands looked against her narrow shoulders. “Look,” he said forcefully. “Isn’t there a way we can put the past behind us and be friends?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth as she studied his own. “No,” she said warily. “But we can try not hating each other.”


	19. Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sobriety, how you show Raoul what he’s been missing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _19 - he who travels fastest goes alone_

It was easy to work with the Riders, now that they’d relaxed into what was actually a cursed-good team of fighters. In fact, Raoul looked forward to those occasions when they two military groups worked together. But each interaction brought pangs of regret and remorse, among other feelings.

She still hadn’t forgiven him, and he didn’t think she was going to any time soon. Buri’s eyes, so dark and mysterious to him, would narrow at the sight of him. Her words were as barbed and pierced as ever, her smile was frightening. But she spoke with him, and she tormented him, and she reminded him of all the reasons he should smack himself over the head for being awful to her.

Because now – in all of his sobriety – he found himself wanting to understand who she really was. He wanted to know why she was prickly and caustic, and he wanted to learn about the sensitive person beneath, learn why she was so guarded. But every time those eyes flashed, he knew that there wasn’t a chance in the Black God’s realm.

What good was sobriety if the person he found himself most wanting to spend time with refused to be more than an acquaintance? So he watched and waited, fighting the urge to step into the nearest tavern to nurse his bruised ego.


	20. Apologizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is, but his heart was never truly with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _20 - home is where we are not_

Cythera hadn’t been incredibly willing to steal away from the queen’s birthday party in order to speak with Raoul. There was an awkwardness between them from the night he had forced his attentions on her. Before that, really.

“I need to talk to you,” he began haltingly, “to make amends.”

Her bright eyes narrowed as she gazed up at him in the dim light of the hallway. His voice was low against the music and chatter spilling from the ballroom, and for a moment he wondered if she hadn’t heard him. “Amends?” she repeated.

“I haven’t been in a good place since, well… since around the time you came to court. I’m sure Gary has told you that I’m trying to fix that now, and change myself.”

She nodded. “He tells me that you’ve stopped drinking.”

“Four months sober,” he said with relief. “I’ve been talking to others who’ve been through this. They’ve created a sort of support group for me, and Myles says it’s important to address all the ways I’ve hurt people in the past. People I’ve pushed away, people whose kindness I’ve taken advantage of.” His mouth went dry, anticipating what needed to be said.

She took his hand in hers, smiling wistfully up at him. “You don’t have to say anything further,” she whispered softly. “Even when you were at your worst, you didn’t hurt me as much as you think you did.”

He shook his head. “I forced my kiss upon you, and I plagued you and ignored what I saw between you and Gary. It wasn’t right – it wasn’t chivalrous. And I thought I was doing it out of love, when really it was possession and, and—”

Cythera stood on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “I accept your apology, Raoul. And I thank you for having the courage to do this.”

“To say I’m sorry?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his voice.

“To know that change was needed, and to follow through with it.”


	21. Confounding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time making amends has a completely different ring to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _21 - Wild heart, child heart_

“Let’s go swim,” Buri suggested, grinning at him. It wasn’t the wicked, teeth-baring kind of smile he had grown used to, but the wide grin she’d given him years ago when they first met, and she’d bombarded him with her questions about the King’s Own. 

He followed her through the forest until they reached the lake, and nearly choked when she removed her shirt. “Don’t be a prude, Goldenlake. We’re both adults.”

“I wasn’t even knighted yet, at your age.”

“Being a knight isn’t what makes you an adult.” She slipped into the water quickly enough that he couldn’t have seen much of her if he’d wanted to. There wasn’t much for him to do but follow suit.

The water was freezing, and he was grateful for it. It was deep, as well, and within only a few steps he was able to submerge himself completely. Buri swam as well as she rode, it seemed, and spent a good deal of time swimming back and forth from one side of the lake to the other. There were times he would see only the flash of her feet, and she would be out of sight for while.

“See? This is exactly what we needed,” she said, treading water at his side. “Can I tell you something?”

He nodded. He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss the water droplets off her jaw.

“I had a crush on you for a long time, Raoul.” Their legs brushed against each other under the water, and she placed her arms around his neck. 

The kiss wasn’t anything he’d expected or hoped for; it was easily the most intense moment he could remember – it was a battle of wills between them, each vying for control. And it made him want so much more.

She broke the kiss and made her way to the shore, leaving him stunned in the water. He wanted to follow, but couldn’t do anything but watch her as she picked up her clothes. 

Picked up _their_ clothes.

“Consider us even now,” she called out with a bark of laughter before running off into the forest.


	22. Backsliding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One mistake, one slip-up, is all it takes to lose all the ground you’ve gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _22 - Longer ways to go_

It was all a stupid mistake. One person wasn’t protected in a battle, due to Raoul’s own lack of foresight, and it resulted in three men getting wounded unnecessarily. One of them being severely wounded.

He was good at planning, so this was inexcusable.

More inexcusable was his reaction after the battle was over, and the men were getting stitched up. The Third Company’s healer kept a flask, just in care salves and Gifts wore out, and wounds needed to sewn or bones placed back in their sockets. And Raoul knew where it was kept.

The entire night was a blank to him – one angry, miserable drink must’ve turned into more. In the morning he found himself fully clothed and half out of his bedroll. He was stiff and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. And Flyndan sat next to him in his tent.

“Was it worth it?” His voice was pitched low, and his words were clipped with anger.

“Oh gods,” Raoul muttered, sitting up. He held his head in his hands, not because his head ached (hangovers were rarely a problem so much as blacking out entirely), but because of his shame and remorse.

“I ask again, was it worth it?” 

Raoul forced himself to look in Flyn’s brown eyes, even though he would rather die of shame at that moment. “It was a mistake.”

“Last I heard, two wrongs don’t make a right.” His captain’s northern burr was more prominent when he was upset; right now he sounded more like he had when he first joined the Own.

“They never have.”

“What are you going to say to your men?” 

“To use me as an example of what not to do,” Raoul said with a wince.


	23. Encouraging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raoul gets a bit of encouragement and a new perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _23 - off the beaten path I reign_

“I heard about what happened in Glenmuir last month,” Wyldon said as casually as he was able to speak, approaching him in the practice yards.

“It hasn’t happened since,” Raoul replied, his voice a low growl.

“I didn’t come here to judge.” The training master had his own bow with him; he brought it up swiftly, shooting with near perfect form without showing any effort.

“Nice shot,” Raoul said, nodding toward the arrow that was implanted near the center of the target.

“It could have been better.”

“Well, if you’re going to strive for perfection, everything could warrant being a little better.”

Wyldon looked up at him, his dark eyes narrowed. “It’s not so simple for people like us, Goldenlake.” His voice had a tone of warning. “Trying hard isn’t good enough when relapsing is on the line.”

Raoul swallowed. “I know.” He took another shot at the target, implanting the arrowhead next to Wyldon’s. “I’ve realized that everything’s different for people like us. There’s no room for the kind of mistake I made, because one drink for you or me is nothing like one drink for someone else.”

“Absolutely right. We can’t afford to have one drink, because it inavariably leads to more. You have to think ahead at all times. It’s like being in a constant battle against yourself.”

“I’ve learned that it most certainly is.” 

“You’re too good to lose that fight, Raoul. I know we don’t always get along, but it doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a knight.” Wyldon smirked. “Well, other than when you’re jousting.”


	24. Circling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both are doomed to be drifters, even as they dance around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _24 - where we will, we’ll roam_

“Needed an escape?” Buri asked, slipping into a seat across the aisle from his in the Hall of Crowns. She had broken the good fifteen minutes of silence he’d been enjoying, but he didn’t mind. “Did you steal away for a drink?”

“No.” Was she the only one in Tortall who didn’t believe he could give up alcohol? ”I hate parties.”

“Me too.” She slouched, her dress-clothes getting completely rumpled. He liked that she honestly didn’t care.

“You remind me of a young me,” he said cautiously, uncertain of how she’d take it.

She laughed. “You were an angry misfit?”

He shrugged. “Of sorts. I had a terrible temper, and my friends knew how to use it to their advantage. But I was more talking about your sense of freedom.”

“It’s not a sense of freedom. It’s an insistence upon it.”

“You should join the Bazhir. They’d love you.”

“Who says I didn’t?”

Raoul smirked. “You would never become one with the Voice.”

“You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?” She cocked her head to one side, studying him.

“Never,” he said with a grin. “But I’m thinking you’re the kind of girl who’d never put her faith in something other than her own hands. Someone who’s restless – like me – who’d never settle down with a husband or family.” 

“No… I guess I’m not the marrying type.” She grinned at him. “Good thing we got my strange crush on you out of my system, eh? That would be awkward.” 

Raoul laughed, but his heart sank a little even as he did so.


	25. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness is found in the strangest of moments, when you’ve lived through some of the darkest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _25 - grin like a dog_

“Save your Gift for the others,” Raoul says, gesturing to the various men in states of pain. “I can have this gash sewn, and let my men use all the magic you’ve got.”

“Raoul,” Alanna says hoarsely. “This is going to hurt without me numbing you.”

“What’s a little pain after what we’ve been through today?” It was a complete smash-up, the fight with the Tyran mercenaries. It had taken a week to track goods stolen from a trading outpost, and Raoul’s frustration over the situation was relieved by the fact that there were a good twenty-five hired arms protecting the thieves. 

“Normally I’d offer a bit of whiskey…”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Raoul insisted, grinning up at her. “Just start sewing.”

It was gods-cursed painful, and even as he winced his heart was light. Alanna was a gentle healer, even when she wasn’t using her Gift, and he would bet money that her stitches were as even and neat as any he’d ever had. Even with all her carefulness, though, it stung more than he’d imagined. A bit of whiskey would’ve been exactly what he needed to endure the pain, but he held fast.

And he was unbelievably happy to do so.

“He’s worrying me a little bit,” Qasim said, watching from the other side of the tent. “The last time I saw him grin like that, he was plotting mischief.”

“Perhaps he had a knock to the head?” Flyndan suggested, nursing an injured arm.

“I’m just happy to be alive,” Raoul said cheerily, tears stinging his eyes as Alanna tugged and knotted the thread, the gash at his hairline completely closed. _I’m just happy to be sober._


	26. Trusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The right setting brings about the right conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _26 - the call of sea, stars, and sky_

“How long have you been sober?” Buri asked one evening, as they sat outside of his tent, along the cliffs that jutted over the Inland Sea. The Riders and Own were working together again, protecting an ocean-side farmstead that had been repeatedly raided over the summer.

“Not as long as I’d prefer,” he answered. It was the first time he and Buri had outright addressed his drinking. Unless you counted her knocking him out, the previous year. “You’ve never really drank, have you?”

She shook her head. “It seems kind of stupid, to mess up your body and your mind that way. There was a woman in the Hua Ma who ruined her life – she could’ve been the clan leader. She was the best warrior, until her drinking took over.”

“I’m glad I caught myself in time,” Raoul whispered, looking up at the stars.

“So am I,” Buri said with a harsh laugh. She leaned back on her elbows, looking skyward. “You were a bit of a jackass, you know. This new-and-improved Raoul is much more pleasant.” She paused for a long moment, listening to the ocean waves. “Was it hard?”

“The most difficult thing I’ve ever gone through,” he admitted. “I gave myself over to Mithros; I put myself in his hands.” He flopped backward, hitting the ground with a satisfying thump.

“That takes some balls.”

“Or a damned lot fear for where your life is going.” He held his hand up to the sky, blocking out the light of the moon to better see the stars. 

“Are you happier?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Can we _really_ be friends now?” She still gazed upward, the picture of casualness. But he could feel the tenseness in the air between them. A lot was riding on this question, it seemed.

“I’d like that.” His voice was low, thick with emotion. “Very much.”


	27. Delving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s impossible not to wonder what caused it, or what could’ve happened if it had never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _27 - the whole unvisited world_

“I didn’t like who I was, in the beginning,” he admitted, his voice low. “I don’t know if I was drinking to forget that I was the guy who was bigger than everyone else, but too shy to ever want to stand out in a crowd. Maybe that was part of it.

“I beat up Ralon a lot… he was older than me, and he bullied others. I think I used his nastiness to justify my own. When he left, I cheered and joked. And when he came back, with revenge and regicide in mind, I didn’t think to blame myself. It was about Jon and Alanna, wasn’t it? It couldn’t have been about Jon’s attack dog, the fellow who tried to drown him and thrash him, right?”

“Raoul, we don’t have to talk about this if you’d rather not.” Myles’s tone was gentle. “It’s good to go through all our mistakes due to alcohol, but you should do it at your own place, when you’re comfortable.”

Raoul swiped at angry tears with the back of his hand, feeling like a child again. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s not like I can change everything I did. Understanding all the things I’ve been avoiding is the only thing I can do to improve things.”

Myles leaned back in his chair, sighing. “I wish I had learned that lesson a long time ago.” 

“Alanna says it’s never too late.”

“I think she’s right.” He smiled, filling their glasses with water. “But I think it’s inevitable for people like us to review our past and wonder what could’ve been different, if we’d known better.”


	28. Tip-Toeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their relationship is tenuous, anymore, but as important – or more important – than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _28 - wanderer broken down before the wind_

“You seem to be doing well,” the king acknowledged, holding up a mirror so he could scry on the winds. 

Raoul looked out over the Olorun river valley that stretched before them. “It’s still difficult. Every day I make the choice to start my life over again.”

Jon glanced at him. “Awfully poetic.”

He shrugged. “But it’s accurate. Gives me some perspective.”

“I almost gave the King’s Own to Alanna, you know. When you were at your worst.”

“Why didn’t you?” Raoul’s voice was so low that he didn’t know if Jon even heard him over the wind. But he must have, since he eyed Raoul carefully.

“I have faith in you, Raoul. You’ve always been here for me – even when you were a drunken fool.” His blue eyes were fierce, his expression determined. “I trusted you even when you gave up on yourself.”

He felt like a rat, recalling all the times he’d hated Jon for his decisions, hated him for not acting on his threats as much as he hated him for making them. “I didn’t like how life had changed,” Raoul told him. “I disagreed with you a lot – I still do. But I didn’t know how to say it.”

Jonathan held up the mirror again, focusing on his mage-work. “You still don’t, Raoul,” he replied with a snort. “But you’re doing a lot better.”


	29. Forgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can’t forget what he can’t remember, but he can learn to forgive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _29 - without sense of time lost_

“You know, of all the things I regret in this world, I think I regret not knocking you out a few more times,” Buri said one afternoon, when his arrow struck true and hers skimmed the side of the target.

“Would you even be able to hit me?” he asked with a smirk, gesturing downfield.

She elbowed him in the ribs – hard. “You’re a bigger target.”

Together they walked down the range to remove their arrows, and Raoul enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. It wasn’t the first time – and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last – he wondered if things would have been different between them, had he never drank a glass of wine. Would they have become friends, or was this something born of animosity and regret? Could they have been lovers?

“I don’t remember that night,” he admitted, yanking the arrows from the target. “I mean, there are bits and pieces, and I remember you glaring and glowering the next day – but there are a lot of evenings I can’t remember at all.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” she replied, frowning. “Would you rather remember them, or forget they every happened?”

“Forgetting they ever happened isn’t possible if I’m spending my time wondering what happened.”

She shrugged. “It’s not worth it. If I could forgive you, I think it’s all right for you to forgive yourself and move one.”

“I worry that forgiveness will lead to complacency.”

“I think you’ll be fine, Raoul. The fact that you care should prevent that.” 

He nodded his agreement. Maybe it was time to let go of those hours he couldn’t remember, and simply move on.


	30. Celebrating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is a lifelong process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _30 - where people go_

Celebrations always came with a healthy dose of drink. Wine, usually, poured by eager squires who simply wanted something to do while their knight-masters flirted and dances with pretty ladies. Or drifted to the sides of the room for pleasant conversations with other knights.

It was the anniversary of the coronation, and like every year, things seemed a little bit more normal. It had taken a long time for the realm to completely heal, after all. And get accustomed to its active queen and its new king’s idealism. But like all changes, the complaints gradually subsided (except perhaps those from the perpetually unhappy training master) and people moved on.

And celebrated.

Sometimes he wanted to take the wine goblets from people’s hands and toss their contents onto the floor. He wanted to prevent others from making the same foolish mistakes he did. Especially the green knights. 

Other times he wanted to gulp the wine down, instead. Those were the days he hid from the public. Granted, there were a hundred reasons to hide from the ladies at a royal ball, but the offered drinks gave him yet another.

He always managed to abstain, though. “Two years sober,” he would murmur, when the desire came over him. “Can’t let all this work go for naught.”

And through all of it, there were his friends. Gary, Alanna, Sacherell… even Jon. He felt as though they read his face, and knew when the struggles were harder. A distracting conversation would spare him.

Or Buri. She’d become one of his closest friends. “None of that,” she would bark, steering him away from the pitchers he stared at. Together they would find something else to do, somewhere else to go - even at the wrath of the king and queen.


	31. Overcoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the struggle wasn’t with alcohol, but with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _31 - the aesthetic of lostness_

The beauty of being lost, Raoul thought as he rode through the desert, was that you were free. He had no obligations, as the Third Company was temporarily in Flyn’s hands and the king didn’t need him in the capital for another week.

So he traveled, lost in his surroundings, lost in his thoughts.

So much had changed over the last few years, but Raoul couldn’t be more pleased with the direction his life was taking. It was his own again. While there were still struggles over the perils and tantalizations of wine, they seemed easier to combat. 

But more important than the craving to drink was the change within him – the demons that alcohol had seemed to keep at bay. He was happy with himself, with his life. He was even content with the fact that lamenting over the past would bring no good. 

He felt whole.

It seemed silly, to think of himself not being whole before. But he’d never truly been comfortable with himself, with his fears and regrets and misgivings. Confidence came with experience, and he tried to remind himself that one did not remain a green knight in an imposing position for the whole of his life.

No, he had grown comfortable with his life as well as with himself. He lived for his work, for his friends, maybe even for love, if he wanted to admit his feelings for his tiny K’miri friend. He liked that his feelings no longer required the companionship of a drink for lamentation or celebration – it was just him, lost in his emotions. In his life.

And he couldn’t be more pleased with his own recovery.


End file.
